


Is Now A Good Time To Mention Prostitute!Andrew?

by Sashataakheru



Category: The Chaser RPS
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-15
Updated: 2010-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:31:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An exploration of slut!Andrew and how he's a bigger slut than Craig. Second person. Andrew's thoughts in italics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is Now A Good Time To Mention Prostitute!Andrew?

You press Chas against the cubicle wall, kissing him furiously as your fingers make a mess of undoing his pants. Chas groans appreciatively as you stroke his dick and bite his neck, knowing he'll cherish your marks for weeks to come. He doesn't try and hide them, and you take pride in his nonchalance about showing off your bite marks. It makes you horny just thinking about it.

Why Chas?

_Why not?_

You bite harder, testing his pain threshold. He yelps, grabs you tightly, nails digging into your skin. Your hands slide underneath his shirt, lightly scratching his chest. You feel him tighten in anticipation, his whole body reeks with desire, needy hands pushing you downwards onto your knees.

With an evil smirk you begin, swallowing him whole before stroking him gently, taking the tip into your mouth and twirling your tongue around the head, eliciting all sorts of desperate noises from him.

You work him until he comes, tonguing the slit as you swallow his cum, making your own orgasm wait until you have a chance to make Chas reciprocate and suck you off in a random cubicle, thrusting into his mouth with no ounce of control.

* * *

You drown yourself in Craig's neck, his fingers bruising your back, his warmth all the comfort you need tonight. He whispers your name as you thrust inside him, not that you care for his petty dependence. He clings to you desperately, forehead beaded with sweat. Distantly, you realise you've long forgotten about his pleasure, concerned only with sating your own lust.

Why? Why do you do this? Why Craig?

_Craig's hot. There's nothing else._

Craig bites your shoulder, reminding you of his presence, just as you begin to thrust harder, forcing him over the edge with you. His arms still around you, you lie there breathless, waiting for him to sleep.

When he's asleep, you leave him behind, sneaking out into the night without even a kiss goodbye. You aren't there to see Craig's disappointment or dry his tears when he wakes alone in the morning.

* * *

Chris whimpers pathetically. Everything about him is pathetic, not that you'd ever tell him this to his face. You're in some deserted room, crushing him against a wall, a quick fuck to relieve tension, his jeans around his ankles, as are your own. You fist his dick tightly as you thrust, wanting him to come just before you do.

There's no effort, no care, just thrust after thrust, building pleasure in your groin as he cries out for you. You whisper harshly in his ear, and he whimpers pathetically again, just like you wanted.

Why Chris? Why fuck him if you think he's so pathetic?

_Out of pity. He'd get no sex at all if it wasn't for me._

You take amusement at the noise Chris makes when he comes, fighting against the wall as you push hard inside him, remaining inside him until the pleasure fades, leaving him kneeling on the ground, half-undressed, feeling sorry for himself.

* * *

You never thought you'd enjoy messing with Julian until you discovered what makes him scream. Late-night drunken sex in an alleyway, all the risk in the world, and there you are, manipulating him, doing your worst, taking great joy in his screaming. So flustered and sweating, so not in control, Julian leans back against the wall, unable and unwilling to stop you as you tear his shirt open, drop his pants and get to work.

Why Julian? Why do you love his screaming so much?

_Does it matter? He screams like a girl, gives into me at the slightest touch. He's mine._

His hands are bruising your shoulders but you don't care. You're horny enough listening to his screaming, and you can't help giving yourself a little relief as you work him, watching him melt at your touch. When you're ready, you fuck him, and fuck him hard, biting him to make him scream as you get your pleasure at last.

* * *

Charles kneels pathetically, refusing to meet your eyes. You sit on the bed, watching him, waiting for him to do as you asked. You broke him some time ago, made him utterly bound to you, and as much as he tries to run away, he'll always be yours.

You smirk as he gives in at last, carefully and delicately beginning to work you, sliding your jeans off before his head's between your legs and you lie back, hands tangling in his hair, lost in your bliss.

Why Charles? What makes you return to him so readily?

_To mend a broken heart. He loves me and will always be there. What more does he need from me?_

Your hips buck, he makes incoherent noises, you pull his hair, desperate for release. You move your legs on top of his shoulders, framing his head, encouraging him to work faster. He struggles to swallow you, but his gagging is what you need, triggering your orgasm as you thrash on the bed, hand fisting his hair, leaving him at your mercy.

* * *

Dom's different. You let him lead. He kisses you softly and worships your body. He whispers to you as you whisper to him, giving him the control you won't give the others. He's so gentle with you, never rushes, isn't selfish. His hands roam your chest as he kisses you, and you don't fight the handcuffs he closes around your slender wrists.

Why Dom? Why the special treatment?

_He deserves it more than the rest. They haven't earned it yet._

You hook your hands behind his head as he prepares and pushes inside you, and you cry out as he moves achingly slowly, taking the time to appreciate every fucking stroke he makes, drowning in the helplessness of your situation, letting him control everything.

He breathes harshly into your ear, his desire turning you on even more as he holds you in his strong arms as he moves. He moans into your neck, body pressed close to yours, and you know he appreciates what you do for him as he has his way with you. He's the only one who never pays, who still has you in the morning, who is allowed to see you at your most vulnerable, and that is the greatest pleasure of them all.


End file.
